Fading
by littleblackneko
Summary: On a chilly night, a depressed Tsukiyomi Ikuto stands on the edge of disaster. Hearing the waves crash, he will make the biggest decision of his life. He is slowly fading...
1. Chapter 1

**I guess my mind was feeling kind of emo today. If you like sad stuff, go ahead and read but beware cuz this is kind of a depressing ficlet. **

The world is cold and quiet now. I can feel the night air cold on my skin, and the rain trickling down is mixing with the sweat on my own body. How sweet, the universe is crying for me. If I had stayed, maybe things would be a little different. But now, I don't think she ever really noticed, noticed my feelings, noticed how she cut me down to the core. So now I lay here, on the cold ground, with no chance of rescue from the cave I've crawled into inside the deepest darkest part of me.

Together. I come back and they're together. I'm just her friend now, and there is no looking back. So happy, but is it really real? Mine sure isn't. Outside, I pretend to be happy, but really, I feel torn up inside by a ton of wild animals. The thought never left my mind I should have come back sooner. That I should have, cross my heart and hope to die, promised that'd I wouldn't throw all I am into music. All that I had left now, a fragmented thread of reality, made my soul throb with pain. I should have thrown everything one way or another. I shouldn't have expected that I could leave for five years, get off a plane, and step back into my old life where nothing has changed. I should have accommodated for a 'someone else.' Now, all that I hear now, is the haunting, sinister melody of my life playing softly in my ear. Each note is a different memory, a different moment frozen in time. But I don't want to remember. The memories make it hurt more.

Do I regret my decision now? No, I guess not. This is nowhere near being a big mistake, actually gives me a sense of freedom and relief. I found out and I ran, droplets forming on my brow. I ran all the way to the bridge.

Now I'm lying here, lost in my own mind. As my own heart aches, the ocean tide tips tickle the ends of my matted up, midnight blue hair. I can barely keep my eyes half open. Here I am, never to found or wondered about. Here I am, slowly fading. Slowly dying. Slowly escaping.

**Please R&R**


	2. Chapter 2

*Bam!* The news rolled in at 1 am while my brain was playing along the lines of awakeness. The TV was blabbering on, and it honestly would have been off if the remote was somewhere to be found. And I honestly wouldn't have been sitting on the couch in front of the TV if I had the ability and energy to get up and lie down on my bed, screw toothbrushes. But I had been half alive on the couch, somehow reasoned by serendipitous destiny-like forces because otherwise the name _Tsukiyomi Ikuto _wouldn't have stuck out to her like the sorest thumb in the world. That littlest voice wouldn't have shouted "SOMETHING'S WRONG!"

A tiny man in a tiny brown suit was standing in front of a tiny tidal pool with a tiny umbrella to prevent the tiny gusts of wind from blowing his tiny frame away. But behind him was my concern. The background, something lay in the background. I saw a woolen coat and an all too familiar blue, the kind that sparkled by the lake, lying lifeless with too much red and I heard my name; somehow, _someone_ had said my name in their tiny voice.

Everything was tiny now, except for one thought that would not escape my mind. No, God no, it couldn't be, not possible. The thought bulged across my mind, pulsed through my blood, ripped a burning hole in my lungs, slapped at my face with each harsh raindrop, and ached my feet with each listless slam my fuzzy slippers made along the cold harsh pavement. The wind ripped though the small tears in the inseams of my pajamas, goose bumps crept into every crevice my body had to offer, up to the top of my exposed scalp, it was a freezer burn close to hypothermia, but my mind didn't care, the metronomic thought could not, would not, leave me alone.

Not Ikuto, _Not Ikuto, _he can't be dead, he's not allowed to be dead, I need him here. Those news people were crazy, crazy paparazzi. His violin fan base must have exploded overnight, or while he was away for the summer and I wasn't up to date on the internet! They were wrong, it was a rumor! It wasn't possible, Ikuto couldn't be dead! My feet continued pounding the pavement, hoping with every last breath that he was still out there breathing into his peachy mouth.

The spot they had shown, the one on the ragged edge of calm and war, I knew that spot. I knew that 90 days ago I had stood there, and he had kissed me for _real_ this time, and it made me want to melt like a puddle of chocolate about to boil. And he had looked at me with those eyes, the ones that were the exact color of the setting sun and night sky blended together, so open and honest and caring and beautiful. He held me close, in a firm embrace, silent and stoic in his ways as usual, but my heart could feel him smiling.

Not that silly grinning smirk he liked to display when he had tricked me, or won a debate with me, or showed up on my birthday, on the exact minute I was born, with the perfect present. No, this was his real smile. The smile that on rare occasion escaped his dead bolted soul. The one that made me want to burn money or rob a liquor store just to screw the world because they couldn't have a smile as beautiful as the one on this boy's face. He was holding me tight, and it felt so good, he had natural cologne that smelt as if it was composed of honey and lavender. I never wanted him to let go and feel what the world felt like without his arms around me.

But then I was unsafe. Vulnerable. And he was telling me goodbye.

My eyes began to water as the wind whipped me in the face and tousled my unruly hair with vigor. Each step stung and my shoes were sopping wet at this point, every muscle in my body coaxed me towards the nearest warm bath, or anything to get out of this bitter, morose storm. I didn't care.

Ikuto. IKUTO. _Ikuto. _His name whispered across my mind as I finally landed in _the _spot, gasping for whatever oxygen I could suck through the gusts of wind that relentlessly blew. Littering the cliffside were insect-like cameras and annoying newsmen.

Disregarding and crawling under the yellow tape I made my way to where the collection of media leeches seemed to gather, despite a couple of policemen calling that 'a kid like me shouldn't be back here. This was a PRIVATE investigation.' Like I was going to listen at this point.

Being small and skinny, I was able to jut my elbows through the swarm. And that's when I saw it

I pinched and slapped and kicked myself trying to do anything, _anything_, to escape this gory nightmare. But reality had smashed itself to bits when I saw the limp, soaking body and I felt a bloodcurdling scream shoving its way up my throat. He was dead. Ikuto was dead. My Ikuto was dead. This couldn't be happening. At this point it was unfightable. I collapsed to my knees and let the tears come gushing out, because the world had stopped turning.


End file.
